To John

If you cross the giant Himalayas
You’ll find my country Tibet
If you peep through the cracks of Drapchi Prison
You’ll find my mother half dead
If you stretch you ears towards her
You will hear her words of grief
She’ll tell you the horrors of Tibet

If you observe her from the head to toe
You’ll see she is a host for insects
If you whisper that you are for TIBET
It will energize her broken heart
If you ask her why is she in prison
She’ll say, ’Because I am a Tibetan’.


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